Plumage
by Random One-Shot
Summary: Cloud would have liked to say it was the sword or the eyes, but really, it was the hair. No one had hair like that except his mom, himself, and, well, this guy. So naturally he had to follow him. The trouble didn't start till after that, though.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer – I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of the dozen spin-off creations it spawned. Thank Square-Enix for its existence, though if they wanted to give it to me, I certainly wouldn't complain. _

* * *

_Title: Plumage_

_Rating: T_

_Summary: Cloud would have liked to say it was the sword or the eyes, but really, it was the hair. No one had hair like that except his mom, himself, and, well, this guy. So naturally he had to follow him. The trouble didn't start till after that, though._

* * *

It was the man's hair.

Cloud would have liked to say that it was the sword – a monstrosity of a blade that was bigger than the man carrying it – or the eyes – because he knew what the glow meant, how could he not? – but really, it was the hair. The stranger came into town wearing a full length cloak with a hood that shadowed his face and only let the glowing blue SOLDIER eyes shine through, but it fell down for a moment when he tilted his head back to drink from the cup that Mrs. Arkengel handed him. And there it was, that chocobo hair that he got teased for on the head of a man he had never seen before.

Except he thought that he had.

The man looked like him. Kind of. Maybe, if Cloud were ten years older, with darker skin and some scars and never smiled.

But the hair? Identical.

The man had come to Nibelheim early in the morning and rented a room at the inn. The whole town had known of his arrival before noon and rumors were multiplying like rabbits as each person added their two cents as to why a SOLDIER was sent to their little town. The last time such a thing had happened was when a hard winter drove two dragons down from the mountain. Nibelheim was evacuated for week until help had arrived. Fortunately the collateral damage was negligible. It was the middle of summer now, though. There had not been any monsters nearby in almost a month.

When the man had emerged in the late afternoon, Mayor Lockhart had asked him what he was doing at Nibelheim, what ShinRa had sent him for, whether there was any danger, etc. The man had simply waved him off, saying he was passing through on his way to Rocket Town for some time off. That had killed off most of the rumors, though Jacob Whitely was still insisting the SOLDIER had to be here for some kind of secret mission. Cloud was not inclined to believe him, even if Jacob had not pushed him into a fence earlier. If there was something going on in Nibelheim, the ShinRa Company would have told the townspeople or evacuated them.

So Cloud had been ready to content himself with just another glimpse of one of his idols, cherishing the memory as he did the few others, except then Mrs. Arkengel had offered the man a glass of water as he was leaving the item shop with more medicine than anyone Cloud had ever seen and, well, the hair. Cloud's hair.

So, he followed.

It was not a stalker thing. Cloud did not want to steal anything, just to ask a few questions. Maybe not even that, because both his parents were only children, probably three of his grandparents too, he knew his family tree, _it was just a coincidence_, but the man was a fast walker and Cloud could not keep up when they started past the old mansion. The road became rough and unreliable at that point, and even a country boy like him had trouble moving fast without falling and breaking something. It was an even harder time trying to go up the road quickly without making any noise.

He really should not have been surprised to see the man waiting for him around the next bend.

(_I am officially the worst spy ever._)

"What are you doing up here?" asked the man.

"…Hunting," Cloud said after far too long, and then kicked himself because without any weapons on him? Yeah, _no one_ would buy that. So stupid.

"Mm-hm," the man muttered, looking every bit as convinced as Cloud thought he would. "Well, I don't hear anything but monsters for a mile out, so why don't you try your luck lower down the mountain."

It was not a suggestion.

The man moved away from the mountain side, that massive sword no more bother than a backpack to him. Cloud watched him go, feeling like he had just been weighed, measured and found wanting for something important that he could not name.

"Wait!"

The man stopped. Cloud was not sure why, but he was taking any chance he could get.

But then what?

"Excuse me, strange man I have never met before. I followed you out into the monster infested wilderness because I've been watching you all day and I saw that hair of yours. Might we be related somehow?"

(_Oh God I wouldn't blame him for running away from me._)

"Let me come with you. I know the way through the mountains."

The man started walking again. "No thanks."

(_Damn it damn it no think of something._)

"Then take me back to the town, please! I thought I saw a dragon behind me!"

And yes, that was the best he could come up with.

The stranger stopped again, but Cloud saw his face and it was not irritated. Instead, the man was half amused, half pitying. It was almost worse like that.

"There aren't any dragons this low. Nice try. Go home."

And crash went Cloud's hopes.

…No, there was one way left.

"So, did you ever live in Nibelheim?" Cloud asked.

The man blinked. He had not been expecting that.

"Why do you ask?"

"You know where everything is. You never asked for directions, whether in town or through the mountains. I don't think I've ever seen you passing through before, and neither does anyone else. So, did you maybe live here a really long time ago and no one remembers?"

(_Mom said she only came back home after everyone died and left the house to her but maybe someone just left_.)

The man was staring at him differently. His face was almost impressed.

"You got that from a question I didn't ask? Smart," the man almost whispered the last part. It sounded almost sad.

"Did you?" Cloud asked, almost breathless. His heart was pounding. This whole situation is stupid, more than likely just something he is blowing out of proportion, but if he is right….

"C… uh, kid, why do you want to know? Is this why you followed me? Just to ask a question?"

"Well… it's important," Cloud said slowly. "Nibelheim's small. We don't have a lot to brag about. If someone from our town got into SOLDIER, then it would be pretty neat."

And that was not a lie. In the whole world, from Third-Class to Sephiroth, the SOLDIER program never had more than two thousand individuals at a time. Many of them were city boys, being picked from the military academies at Junon and Midgar. Those who volunteered to enter the SOLDIER program more than often failed, and of those volunteers who managed to pass, only about 12% were from country towns like Nibelheim. They tended to be heroes in their neighborhoods.

If someone from Nibelheim had gotten into SOLDIER, even after moving away, it would be big news.

The man looked uncomfortable. Cloud wondered why.

"I… used to live here, yeah. Kind of. It was a long time ago, though. Now will you go back?"

"What's your name? Tell me that and I'll leave," Cloud promised.

He could ask his mom with a name. If he has a name, there was no way she would hold back if she knew anything. And she had been thorough about checking out her family when she got the notice. She would know, right?

"Why are you asking me this? Nobody is going to remember me, I guarantee it," the man said.

Well, he had been gone a long time if he thought small town memories died so easily. Mr. Frey and Mr. Haugendorf had been arguing over the size of a Marlboro they killed for the past sixty years.

"Maybe someone will," Cloud said. "And, hey, I got to talk to a SOLDIER from my town. That's not a bad thing. I'd like your name so I don't forget."

"I doubt you'd forget anyway," the man said. He turned and resumed walking down the road.

Cloud tried not to let the bitter, familiar feeling of failure and disappointment swallow him whole. He had gotten something out of the exchange, had he not?

(_But you couldn't just ask him straight out if he was family could you baby wimp loser._)

"Lightning."

It was so soft Cloud almost did not catch it. Then his brain caught up with his ears and he smiled.

Lightning Strife.

Very awesome, if he was right.

* * *

So he did go home, because he was not a liar, whatever else those idiots Tifa hung out with said. It was getting close to his lunch time anyway.

His mother asked him where he had been to come home so torn up and filthy. He was in too good a mood to act ashamed that he went up the mountain trail. He told her everything, including the reason he felt compelled to follow after the mystery man. She was angry, then almost pitying, then intrigued when he told her the man's words.

"So, is it possible?" Cloud asked.

"Perhaps," Sky Strife answered, and Cloud's heart leapt. It did not matter that he would probably never see the man again unless he came back the same way from Rocket Town. He might have a SOLDIER cousin. Or uncle. Relative. "I'll dig out the papers after dinner tonight and we can look through them."

Cloud had never hated his chores as much as he did then. Every dust bunny he had to sweep up, every crack in the fence that he had to fill in, seemed to be laughing at him. 'Ha ha ha! You'll never get us all finished!' This was not the truth, of course, but he was thirteen and impatient. When those two things are together, a summer day can seem like a lifetime.

Dinner finally rolled around at six p.m. and Cloud inhaled his mother's cooking without tasting it. A shame, since she usually made very tasty fare. Still, it was not like he would never get another chance to eat it. And anyway, mysterious-maybe-relative! That beat stew and biscuits.

He helped her clear the table and then they opened the old chest that Sky kept their important papers in. Birth certificates, land deeds, death notifications, wills, diaries, the family tree – every bit of Strife family paperwork for the past six generations. The possibility that the stranger was from the other half of his family was raised and then dismissed. The hair that had drawn Cloud in was strictly a Strife trait.

The older stuff got put back in almost immediately. There was no mention of the black-sheep moving away to start a brothel or anything interesting like that. Every member of the family was accounted for from their birth until their death. Only two had ever left Nibelheim and they, like Sky, had returned to stay when it came time to settle down. The same went with their children and their children, too. That just left his grandparents' generation and his mother's.

He had known, objectively, that he had once had a large family. It was something else to see his grandfather and his six grand-aunts and grand-uncles spread out on paper. Aunt Zephyr Strife was the eldest, then his own grandfather Cyclone, younger brother Gust, sister Sunny, brother Hale, brother Sleet and finally littlest sister Cloud, who he had been named after (a fact that his tormentors took every opportunity to remind him of).

Seven people in all and a whopping twenty-two children between them, with five more grandchildren besides himself. All dead and gone now, save himself and his mother and maybe the SOLDIER. He had not fully appreciated that until just then.

"Amazing, isn't it? So many people, so many lives, and only us to show for it today," Sky whispered sadly.

That brought Cloud even further down.

He had never known any of the people on the paper in front of him, but his mother had. They had been her father and mother, her aunts and uncles, her cousins and nephews and nieces. The people that had raised her, taught her to be who she was, and ultimately cast her out for it.

Cloud knew the story behind his birth, the version his mother told him and the version he put together from gossip and insults. Nibelheim had been bigger fourteen years ago than it was today. The mining industry was still big and no one had to leave for new jobs. People passed by all the time, either to try and settle down or just to stop by on their way. His father had been one of the former.

According to his mother, Virgil Eirhart was a kind, loving man who swept her off her feet and would have married her had that cave-in not cut things short. According to Mrs. Whitley at the grocery store as she retold the story to young Ms. Kaust (and Cloud was almost sure she knew he had been listening in), Virgil Eirhart was a lying swindler who had taken his fool mother in for her family name and money, and was going to leave her at the alter once he learned that Cyclone was disinheriting his tramp of a daughter. Either way, with no home willing to take her in and no husband able to build her a new one, a newly pregnant Sky Strife had taken off for the city and found it to be less forgiving than she thought to a young woman with no connections. When the death notice came five months later, it was almost a relief.

The main house had been buried in the avalanche, along with everyone who had bothered to show up for Zephyr's birthday, which _was_ everyone. As the sole remaining relative (and as Cyclone had been the only one to specifically write Sky out of his own will), Cloud's mother had found herself with quite a bit of property and money. Most of it was lost to pay off the family's various debts, but what was left was enough for her and a new baby to live off of. A good thing too, as most of the townspeople saw her even today as a woman who had ruined her good name and come back to live on the graves of her family.

Sky had always told Cloud of the importance of family, but looking back, Cloud could not think of more than a few instances where Sky had ever offered him any stories. None of them had featured her father.

Suddenly, looking through the family papers did not appeal to him.

"Um, mom, if you want to stop, I can – "

Sky cut him off. "No, it's all right. Really, I've been so depressed about all this for so long. It's nice to have a happy reason to look at these things again. Now, what about my cousin Typhoon here?"

She was forcing the cheer into her voice, Cloud was sure. Still, there was interest in her eyes, so….

"Don't think so. See here? He divorced his wife because she was barren."

"Ah, right. That was a nasty time, I recall. He was always snapping at everyone and I don't think we ever proved that it was Marian who was barren. Okay, cross him off. Now, what about cousin Thunder…."

* * *

It was almost midnight when they finally put everything back. Cloud figured they had narrowed it down to two possibilities. The first was his mother's cousin Snow, who had married a girl in Nibelheim, gone off to Kalm and only returned on the day of his death. He had never mentioned a child, but then he had hardly ever written home and only when he needed to. Supposedly business had kept him busy, but Cloud thought he just enjoyed being on his own for once. The second was his uncle Terran, who had gotten into a massive fight with Cyclone at the age of sixteen, left and never come back. No one had ever learned what happened to him. For a moment Cloud thought that maybe the man had been Terran and simply given a different name, but that could not be it. He was too young looking to be older than Sky.

Both disappointed that he had not gotten a definite answer and elated that there was hope, Cloud crawled into bed wondering how he could send a letter to Kalm asking after his aunt by marriage and track down an uncle no one had heard from in almost twenty years.

He dreamed of faceless people with bright yellow hair milling all around him, but no one ever answered when he spoke. His hands passed through them when he tried to make contact. Then someone tapped his shoulder and said, "Why are you asking such stupid questions?" Cloud turned around and woke up.

He stared. The light from his window was strange. Red. And his nose itched when he breathed. Come to think of it, so did his lungs.

…Was that screaming outside?

…Yes it was.

Only half convinced he was awake, Cloud sat up and looked out of his window.

* * *

He was still asleep, as it turned out.

Nibelheim was a bonfire, every building he could see spewing orange-red flames out of their windows and doors. The well at the center of town was blazing away merrily as well. The updraft was carrying the smoke up and away, little cinders and sparks following it to glow hellishly in the air as they drifted towards their unknown destination.

He looked away.

Mrs. Whitely was standing in front of her store and home, screaming high pitched, incomprehensible words and reaching toward the doorway she dared not enter. Mr. Whitely and Jacob were nowhere to be seen, so Cloud had a pretty good idea of why she was screaming.

He looked away.

The schoolteacher, Mr. Einzbern, was dragging himself away from the schoolhouse. He had no clothes on, but Cloud could see something falling off of him and being left behind on the paving stone as he crawled down the walkway leading to the town square.

He looked away.

The Welch family dog was laying still in the front yard of the Welch house. It had half collapsed from the flames, but Cloud could still see the open window where a blackened arm was hanging out. Sparks flew from the house and rained down on the dog. After a few moments, bright flares begin to puff up from its lank fur.

He looked away.

Mayor Lockhart was pinned to his fence by a massive sword. He kept trying to push it out of himself, but he was not strong enough. Tifa was crying and yanking the blade along with him. It had no effect. After a few moments, Mayor Lockhart coughed up a massive amount of dark blood, staining the blade, his daughter and his nightshirt red. His arms fell down and Cloud could hear Tifa begin to scream.

So he was sleeping.

Because none of that was real.

Obvious, really. What a stupid nightmare.

Cloud lay back down and pulled the covers over his head to muffle the noise.

It would be better when he woke up.

"Cloud?"

His mother?

She was in his dream too?

That hardly ever happened. Still, if he was lucid, maybe he could skip the waking up part and just make this into a happy dream.

_**CRASH!**_

Mayor Lockhart's body came in through the window. Glass showered over Cloud and gave him a dozen stinging cuts. Without the glass to block out the worst of it, sound and heat came through the window with a vengeance. Cloud was sweating immediately and the screaming was ten times worse with no filter.

"_Oh, God!" _

But his mother's was the worst of all.

Sky Strife was kneeling by Mayor Lockhart's body, feeling frantically for a pulse at his neck even though Cloud could tell he was very dead. The gaping, bloody hole in his torso was a big hint. And it was not only Lockhart who was bloody. Cloud's cuts were staining his nightclothes and blanket red in places. Carefully, Cloud raised his hands to his eyes and flexed them, feeling the pain of cut skin as he did.

(_Not a dream._)

And it was only then that the important things came to his mind.

(_Nibelheim is burning people are dead I'm in danger mom's in danger we need to pack the valuables and get out maybe the old mansion wait who threw mayor lockhart who THREW A MAN THROUGH MY WINDOW?!_)

Tifa was screaming.

That seemed much more important than it was a few seconds ago.

Cloud looks out of his window.

A man in black, a tall man with long silver hair, was holding the girl Cloud had a crush on since forever in one hand and the monstrous blade that impaled Mayor Lockhart in the other. He was lining up the blade with her body. Cloud knew what would come next.

"No!" Cloud yelled. He threw off the covers and lunged for the window. It did not matter that his mother was screaming behind him. She was safe (for the moment). Tifa was going to die. Tifa, the only kid in town he wanted to be friends with, even if she did not know he existed. Tifa, who he had risked his life for once before, back when he did not even know the value of his own life. He knew it now. He also knew that if he saw her die, he would remember it forever and hate himself for not stopping it.

He was halfway through the window, glass cutting every bit of skin it touched, when the man turned to face him. He could not see the face – the smoke and heat warped everything more than ten feet away into a blur – but he saw the eyes. The green, glowing Mako eyes.

The green eyes.

And the long black coat.

And the long silver sword.

(_…No. _

_No. _

_Why?_

_Makes no sense._

_Not real. _

_Not true. _

_IGNORE IT AND HELP HER!_)

Impossibly, incredibly, the man dropped Tifa and came toward the sound of Cloud's yell.

At this point, Cloud realized the flaw in his heroic plan.

(_Shit!_)

The body went forward when the mind screamed backward and Cloud fell in a heap onto the front porch. In the house behind him, his mother was screaming his name, asking if he was all right.

And the man was coming closer.

The man – terrifyingly tall, terrifyingly strong, terrifyingly near, terrifying.

Sky Strife – why did Cloud jump out the window? Who killed Lockhart? What is happening to the town? Wait, who is the man outside?

Mayor Lockhart – Dead, bleeding red meat on the Strife rug made by Cloud's great-grandmother.

Tifa – twelve years old, in shock, in denial, insane from the madness of the night, curled up against the fence she had landed by.

Nibelheim – not going to last the night.

Cloud - thirteen, in nightclothes, bleeding, scared, confused.

(_What did we do to deserve this?_

_Nothing we did deserves this. _

_Why is he going to kill us?_)

And here is the scene:

The man stops in front of Cloud, raises the sword.

Sky throws something at him through the same window he used to deliver Lockhart.

The man returns the favor with a blast of fire from his bracer.

Sky screams and roasts.

And Cloud –

The sword comes down.

- Waits to die too.

(_…Someone help…._)

* * *

Except!

"_BASTARD!"_

The air turned shockingly cold in a single moment as spears of ice, longer than Cloud was tall, rained down where the man was standing just a second ago.

Something landed in front of Cloud with a flash of light and a thump heavy enough to crater the ground. His eyes stinging, Cloud looked through the smoke and the heat. The air was alive and all his hair was standing on end. He had felt like that before, when the summer nights turned dark and the sky rumbled. It was stupid joke, even in his head, but with Hell coming to Nibelheim, Cloud does not really care when he stares at his savior who fell down from the mountaintop and thinks _lightning strike_.

* * *

_Okay, so here's the first chapter. Can't say I'm happy with the title, so expect it to change sooner or later. _

_We've had time travel stories where Cloud goes back in time and lands in a younger version of his own body, usually while he's in the military academy. I've seen a few where he retains his own body and lives a separate existence from his younger self (Sinnatious' _The Fifth Act _is a really good one), but I don't think I've ever come across one where Older!Cloud gets heavily involved with Younger!Cloud's life. Like, is-stuck-with-this-kid-for-real involved. This one is going to be along those lines. Little Cloud will be spending the next few years of his life with this mysterious, close-mouthed, often frustrating, sometimes terrifying stranger who looks like his older brother. _

_Expect confusion. And tantrums. And explosions. And ShinRa. _


	2. Chapter 2

Lightning _moved_.

He had to have moved, because he was not in front of Cloud anymore. Neither was Sephi… the man. Instead, there was the screeching sound of metal striking metal from above, the right, the left, behind the fountain, on the roof, _everywhere at once_ and then something was sent hurtling through Mr. Black's house with enough force to knock down the front wall.

Lightning was in front of him again. Cloud was pulled to his feet and Lightning's hands were knocking the glass out of his hair, Lightning's voice asking over and over again, "Are you all right?! Are you all right?!"

Cloud must have stammered out something resembling _my mother_ because Lightning left and smashed his way through Cloud's front window, the same one that Lockhart had come through only a minute before. Cloud turned to watch him. The inside of his house was blackened, but only a few things had actually caught on fire as a result of the man's spell. His curtains, for one. The rug. His mother's night gown.

She was still burning when Lightning carried her back out. He gently set her on the porch and patted the flames out with his hands. Lightning was covered in dark blood and soot. Sky was making soft moaning sounds and she kept twitching. Cloud stared down at the wreckage of melted flesh that had been his mother. Her face was a barely recognizable smear, warped by the fire into something from a horror tale.

"Kid!"

That was his mother.

She was going to die.

"Kid!"

Even if she lived, would she want to?

"_Kid!"_

Something touched him and Cloud threw himself backwards. It was only Lightning, trying to get his attention. The blue Mako eyes were like headlights and Cloud could not look away.

"Listen, that man isn't down yet. You need to take your mother and hide somewhere, okay? I'll come and get you later."

There was so much wrong with that. Cloud wanted to scream, cry, laugh: _my mother isn't going to live through tonight my home is destroyed my whole town is dead why is this happening what made ShinRa hate us_. Instead, he nodded and pointed up the mountainside, where the fire had not yet spread.

Madman, dragon, avalanche; it was all the same. Do not think. Survive.

Something in Lightning relaxed and the man nodded. "Okay, I'll go that way afterwards. Use these," and he gently pressed two small vials into Cloud's limp hand. "They're called Elixirs. They can help your mom a bit, fix some of the damage, _but not all of it_. Use them to get her – "

Something behind Cloud exploded and Lightning shifted his gaze away. The look on his face changed, going from focus to _absolute rage_ in less than a second. Without another word to Cloud, Lightning grabbed his massive sword off of the deck and launched himself back towards the town square. Cloud turned around and saw –

A black coat and silver hair that the fire did not touch; a long sword that had slaughtered so many and yet still shone brightly; a serene, confident smile of madness as he stepped through the fire of the Black house.

He walked through the fire like it was nothing to him.

Something in Cloud _snapped_ and he was abruptly pouring the Elixir over his mother's torso without any memory of opening it.

(_Gotta run gotta hide gotta run gotta hide._)

The liquid splashed over charred skin and Cloud watched, numb to amazement, as it began to regrow. All over his mother's body new flesh began to peek through the dead flesh, bursting from the seams like an over packed bag. Before it had even finished, Cloud had uncorked the second vial and poured it on. Throwing the now useless container aside, Cloud stood up and stepped over his mother to reach the window. His blanket was still there, just beyond the hole that Lockhart had made and Lightning enlarged. He could see the boot prints where Lightning had walked over it. Ignoring the burning curtains to his sides, Cloud reached in and grabbed his comforter off the bed. Glass rained down with little tinkling sounds.

Walking back to his mother's side, Cloud draped the blanket over the deck. Then, carefully, he pushed and pulled his mother until she lay down on it. He held his breath and tried not to think about how strangely her flesh moved under his hands. When Sky Strife lay on the makeshift stretcher, Cloud grabbed two corners and started pulling.

It was painfully, terrifyingly slow getting her down from their deck and across the town square. Cloud could hear the sound of fighting through the roar of the fire and once caught a glimpse of Lightning when he dashed from one house to another ahead of the man in black. Twice, massive gouts of flame that could not have come from any natural fire came at him and were countered by other spells. Each time that happened, Cloud moved a little faster, ignoring the pain in his bare feet. Screaming elsewhere told him he was not the only being targeted.

He was halfway to the mountain trail when someone began pulling with him. He did not notice until they ripped the blanket corner straight out of his hand. Turning, Cloud saw Tifa Lockhart holding the other half of his mother's carrier.

"He said I had to follow you," Tifa whispered.

Cloud did not need her to explain who 'he' was.

They continued up the path, hacking and coughing when the wind blew the smoke in their direction. They never once stopped. Somehow they both knew they would not be able to start again. It was either get away or die.

Tifa was not the only one to join him. Three times more they were joined by people, blackened with soot and in their night clothes, who ran up the trail after them. The teenage son of the town repairman, Justin Koenig; a newly married couple, Mr. Nicholas and Mrs. Karen Elliot; the whole Danvers family. The last had, apparently, been awakened by Lightning crashing full body through their dining room wall. He had pointed them towards the mountains before rushing back out through the same hole. Justin he had pulled from a burning house. The Elliots had woken up on their own and simply hightailed it out of Nibelheim after pulling on their shoes and coats. Cloud envied them for their foresight.

Nicholas had picked Sky up into his arms, blanket and all, rather than force anyone to drag her along behind them. Cloud had mumbled a tired thank you, feeling his arms cry with relief. His mother was not a large woman by any means, but dead weight was dead weight, particularly when going uphill. Tifa immediately claimed his vacant left hand. Cloud wondered if she even knew what she was doing.

"Where are we going?" Justin finally asked.

"Away," Cloud answered. "He said he'd come and find me later. Find us later. He has to stop that guy first, then he'll come and find us."

(_He has to stop him or we'll just be chased and hunted down like rabbits please don't let that man win please_)

"But _where_?" Justin pressed, and Cloud suddenly, irrationally, hated Justin's guts for it. "Where are we going to stay? There are monsters in these mountains and I didn't bring dad's rifle."

"There's always the mansion," Karen said. "It hasn't been demolished or anything, right? We could stay there and figure out what to do later."

No one agreed. No one disagreed. Nicholas was huffing, already tired from carrying Sky. Tifa was walking in a daze, the expression on her face almost sleepy if not for the blasted look in her eyes. She would not relinquish the death grip she had on Cloud's hand. Justin was silent, his questions all dried up. George Danvers, the Danvers patriarch, ignored everything else but his wife, gently coaxing her along with him. His son Alan was carrying little Missy Danvers, while Alan's wife Josephine led Timmy Danvers along by the hand. Cloud, still in the lead, let all thoughts beyond '_get away from the fire_' leave his mind.

Direction could wait. Shelter could wait. Rest could wait.

Do not think.

Survive.

* * *

The ShinRa mansion loomed up in front of them like a colossus.

It was every bit the wreck people had called it. Several of the windows were smashed. Weeds had overgrown the lawn and invaded the porch. The fence was rusted and buckling in places. The paint was peeling off of it in great strips. Shingles were missing from the roof. Lightning flashed in the background.

That last one was just due to the oncoming storm, but it was still appropriate.

George went in first, kicking the old gate down with his bare feet. It collapsed with a shriek of rushed metal.

"Come on," he said.

They followed, one by one. Cloud and Tufa hung by Nicholas, Cloud focused on the wheezing gasps of the bundle Nicholas carried. The wind picked up again and threw a smattering of dead leaves at the tired party. They were ignored. The old porch groaned and squealed under foot when so many people stood on top of it. The door, huge and solid, barred their way only for a moment. Justin looked beneath the mat and pulled out an ancient looking key.

"Everybody does it," he muttered by way of explanation.

The lock was stiff, but enough force in the wrist cause the tumblers to give way. The lock opened with an audible snapping sound and there was not a doubt in Cloud's mind that they had broken something. Still, the door opened fine, so it was no trouble for them.

The interior was no better than the exterior. Debris that had flown in through the shattered windows coated the floor. Dust lay heavy on everything. There was no sign that anyone had lived there for decades.

They ignored the stairs and went into a little room on the right. Nicholas lay Cloud's mother down onto the floor. She still had not woken up. Cloud looked at her body, with new scarred flesh webbed around old blackened meat, and found that he almost wished she never did.

Sky had never been a woman with much. The life of plenty ended abruptly with her pregnancy and exile. Growing up, Cloud could only remember his mother taking pride in him. Not her name or home or anything else. But she had always tried to look her best, even if most of the townspeople would never give her the time of day. She had loved her hair and always rubbed cream into her hands in a futile attempt to keep them soft. Her body was something she had enjoyed, even if she had no one to enjoy it with. And now it was nauseating to look at.

She would be horrified, Cloud knew.

"Did anyone else hear that?!"

Josephine's sudden question startled everyone and Cloud snapped his head around to stare at her.

Suddenly nervous beneath the stares of so many people, Josephine stuttered. "I-I mean, I th-thought I heard something. Just a second ago."

The man had come to kill them, Cloud realized. Lightning had lost or the man had gotten away from Lightning, but the result was the same. The man was here and they would die too.

Without thinking, he wrapped his small fingers around a floorboard that jutted up from its brethren. He pulled as hard as he could and yanked it up a few more inches.

"What are you doing?" Justin asked.

Tifa knew. She dropped his hand and added her own muscle to help him. The floorboard groaned and slowly, ever so slowly, was pried loose. Rusty nails jutted out from both ends and Cloud felt splinters digging into both of his hands. It did not matter. Tifa evidently agreed with him, as she immediately began pulling up another one.

"Weapons," Cloud growled at the people staring slack-jawed at his apparent insanity. Really, what else would they use?

"Oh, nice idea," Karen said. She walked over to help Tifa wrestle with her board and, getting the idea, the men began tearing up their own.

It was slow, messy work. Cloud's board had come up easiest. The others had to be hauled up from the floor at the expense of much cursing and yanking. In the end, they only got four: Cloud's, one for Nicholas, one for Justin and one for George Danvers. After a bit of thought, Justin gave his to Alan, who was much bigger across the shoulders. Cloud was fine with that, so long as no one tried to take his away.

But even though it had to have taken a whole minute to get the floorboards up, no silver haired man came to interrupt them. Cloud could have believed Josephine to have been mistaken, were it not for the instincts in his mind screaming that something was wrong.

(_Everything is wrong tonight._)

"Stay here," George said. "Nicholas, Alan and I will have a look around."

'_Be careful_' someone whispered, but Cloud was not listening. Less people meant less protection meant he was protecting his mother with only a floorboard and whatever help a teenage boy and two women could give. Old Mrs. Danvers was sitting against the wall with a hand over her face, weeping softly; Missy was asleep or unconscious; Timmy was next to his grandmother, shaking uncontrollably and muttering 'not real' to himself over and over again.

He could not rely on any of them. Had to do it himself if –

Wood snapped and Cloud bit back a curse before he saw the source.

Tifa Lockhart held up the half a floorboard she had broken loose and switched her grip to put the nail end up and out. The vacant look was gone from her eyes. Cloud was not sure if the burning _something_ that had replaced them was any better. She saw him staring at her and gave him a quick nod.

…Okay, maybe not entirely on his own.

Behind him, his mother continued to wheeze in and out. Each shuddering gasp was proof that she still lived. Maybe she would want to die when she saw what had been done to her. Maybe she would not. Either way, it was Cloud's job to make sure she stuck around long enough to make that decision.

He settled against the wall, splintery weapon in hand, and waited for something to happen.

* * *

It was a long time before the men came back.

Cloud could hear them thumping around the old house, opening doors and walking down the hallways. Twice, there had been a sudden bout of yelling and crashing that had his heart in his throat. But both times, they died down and his grip on the floorboard loosened. Finally, the three explorers crept back in through the door and shut it firmly behind them. All three of them were bleeding somewhere.

"Well, we aren't alone here after all," Alan said softly. "It isn't that maniac, though. Just a bunch of monsters that infested the place."

Cloud felt no relief. Monsters could kill just as easily as people and they had no decent weapons.

"Did they follow you?" Karen asked worriedly.

"No. We only got attacked twice and beat them off both times. There wasn't anything behind us when we came back, so I think we're okay here," Alan replied.

"Well, there's that at least," Karen said and that ended conversation for quite a while.

* * *

Outside, Nibelheim burned.

They could see the glow from the one window in the room. It face out towards the path that led to town and the cherry-red light was visible even from there. The smoke smell was still with them, though it was impossible to tell if that came from their own bodies or the wind. The scent of charred flesh and blood came with it. Sometimes a scream drifted up to the house, but it could just as easily have been a bird.

No one stayed at the window for very long.

Karen and Josephine helped Cloud tear up a sheet the men had in the next room found for bandages. Most of them went to his mother and were immediately soaked through when they came into contact with her skin.

(_What was left of her skin_.)

The rest was spread out among themselves to staunch blood flow from scrapes and cuts and gashes. Tifa used hers to wrap up her feet and, after wiping his face clean as best as he could, Cloud did the same. He wanted to be able to run and having torn up feet made that harder. The only ones who had come out of the ordeal more or less unharmed were the Elliots and the Danvers children. All the rest had been knocked about and, in Cloud, Tifa, and Justin's case, breathed in a great deal of smoke. Those three spent every other breath breaking into coughing fits for the first two hours. Everyone in the room soon became used to the sound of hacking.

But, again, Sky was the worst.

Her dull, wheezing rattle was the only sign that she still lived. Sometimes it would cut out for a moment or two longer than normal and Cloud would feel his heart start to race, but then it would begin again like a motor kicking over.

Things did not get better with the arrival of the summer storm. The sound of rain falling against the roof made Cloud sleepy, made him lose focus. Twice, he nearly gave in to his exhaustion and nodded off. Twice, Tifa noticed and pinched him. The adults were against it at first, telling her that she should let him sleep. Cloud silenced them.

"I want to stay awake," Cloud informed them in no uncertain terms. "If I die, I want to hurt that man before I do."

That shut them up.

* * *

It was a kind of slow madness.

_Mother will die._

_Mother will live._

_Mother will want to die._

_Mother must want to live._

_I need to kill that man. _

_That man will kill me. _

_I want to kill that man._

_That is not an evil thing._

_Yes, it is an evil thing._

_He is an evil thing. _

_He is your hero. _

_He is a monster. _

_We are going to die here. _

_We need to get out and keep moving. _

_Where could we go? _

_Anywhere. _

_Never make it out of the mountains. _

_Have to try. _

_Need to be stronger. _

_Should have fought him. _

_Where is Lightning? _

* * *

Four and a half hours after limping through the mansion door, a filthy, drenched, exhausted Lightning finally caught up with the small group of survivors huddled in the mansion.

Of course by then both Sky Strife and Old Mrs. Danvers had been dead for over one hour.

* * *

_Another chapter, and in record time too. Well, by my standards._

_For those of you who noticed the ages of Cloud and Tifa, congratulations. Yes, Nibelheim has been torched a bit earlier than expected. BUT HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! _

…_Well, someone lit it on fire. Duh. _

_But as to how and why said person did such a thing? You'll have to stick around for the long haul. _

_I'm also starting another story set in the Christopher Nolan _Batman Begins _universe. If you're interested, go check it out._


End file.
